


Remembrance

by GenerationAlchemist



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenerationAlchemist/pseuds/GenerationAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy is out with his family when an unexpected visitor interrupts... and brings back some painful memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

_Memory is a torturous mechanism of the inner workings of the mind. Through remembrance we are able to learn, we are able to maintain, we can remember the good, but also the bad. Always the bad. Memory is what drives men insane, memory is what drives men to death by the barrel of their own gun. Memories of what they have done, and what they have become._

_Sometimes memory can be bittersweet. Where there’s equal amounts of suicide-inducing remorse and of warm, all-encompassing happiness. Or… maybe not happiness, but something like it._

_Who in this world of worlds can truly say they’re happy, after all?_

Rain pattered down on the world, scaring all the people of Central City indoors on such a dreadful night in which thunder rocked the earth and lightning slashed its careless way across the black of night. It was an ugly storm, the worst one they’d had in a while, but Roy Mustang chalked this up to the fault of springtime. In any case, he wasn’t worried. His entire world was safe and warm at the comfortable, candle-lit table of a prestigious restaurant. He smiled across the table, fingers entwined under his chin, as he listened to a crackling, lilting voice spew on and on about curriculums and academia.

 

His son was reaching puberty, and his poor, sweet little vocal cords were still struggling under the transformation. Roy couldn’t be prouder, but sadder.

 

Fourteen years had seemed to go by in a moment.

 

Roy leaned back, dropping a hand to hold his wife’s. She sent him a surprised smile, and it was unbelievable how the tilting of lips can make everything brighter. He smirked back, squeezing her fingers gently as he turned back to focus in on what his son was saying.

 

“And then Professor Elric started yelling and cursing, and an administrator from the office had to come in to talk to the students about not making a huge deal out of it! It was insanity. But that’s always how it is with Professor Elric.”

 

Ah.

 

Roy swallowed, sighing to himself as he had no words to respond to his son.

 

The typical, “That’s nice, sweetie,” from his wife Roxanne made Roy want to bow his head in shame.

 

Everything was bright and beautiful, but weak and fake. He’d been thinking about it more and more lately, how much this life seemed still… unfulfilled. It wasn’t that he regretted marrying his wife, and his son was his heart and soul, but something just didn’t feel right.

 

“And what did Professor Elric say about his adventures this week?” Roy finally managed, with a humorously raised eyebrow. The young teenager across from him brightened, then dimmed, all in the space of a second. His rambunctious boy. So much like how Edward had been, Roy reflected with a small smile.

 

“He didn’t tell anything this week. Said it was a bad day. Which sucks, because he was going to tell us about the Xingese bears.”

 

“Language,” Roxanne automatically scolded for the word ‘sucks’. Appropriately cowed, the black-haired boy ducked his head, still frowning in disappointment.

 

Roy was still raising a brow curiously. Every week Elric had a tale for his students, unfailingly, for the past four months. It was a bit disappointing, as one of Roy’s favorite moments out of the week was hearing his son recite the Professor’s stories, of which sometimes he was the star of. And that was something Roy would never get tired of- that look of utter hero-worship that would cross his son’s face when mentioning him in one of Elric’s stories.

 

As if being the Fuhrer wasn’t enough, his son was only proudest of Roy when he was the Colonel Bastard from the past.

 

“Perhaps you lot upset him this week,” Roy suggested, surprised by the boy’s immediate scoff of denial.

 

“Professor Elric loves us! He says we’re his favorite class, and has even winked at me when he said ‘favorite’. So I’m his favorite- he would have told me at least!”

 

So much for Roy being scared that Elric would treat his son badly in class. Although it was a bit worrying that Edward Elric was paying special attention to the heir of Mustang.

 

Shit. Paranoia was kicking in again.

 

The Fuhrer reached out for his glass and swallowed every last drop of wine quickly, savoring the tingle of a burn down his esophagus. Something harder would have been preferable, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Except for the fact that, well, he was the Fuhrer. He flagged down a member of the wait staff and politely requested their finest bottle of scotch. The burn of his wife’s eyes boring into him could be brushed off like an insect on his lapel, so she was easily ignored. His son took the opportunity of the tense silence to continue rambling about his Foundations of Alchemy course. Roy just couldn’t focus on that anymore though; his mind was miles away on a certain blonde. Roxanne was blonde, but her hair was lighter than _his_ was, the last time Roy saw him.

 

Which was… fuck…

 

Roy turned his gaze out the window, and jolted so hard in his seat that his family whirled around in alarm to see what he was staring at. Staring with wide eyes and a slack mouth. His son jumped up excitedly and waved, “Professor Elric! What are you doing out there?”

 

“Sit down, boy!” Roy barked, rising to push his son back into his seat, “He can’t hear you from in here.”

 

“Don’t yell, Roy. Please. You’re causing a scene,” Roxanne hushed him, putting a hand on his arm.

 

Shaking her off, he turned back to the window, where Edward still stood, looking forlorn in the rain with one gloved hand clenched against the window. Those brilliant golden eyes were somehow dull as the burrowed into Roy, beckoning him. It was like some kind of bittersweet homecoming, or else a classic tale of a siren luring the fisherman into drowning waters. Whichever the case, Roy was drawn to the man out in the rain and shot telling glances between his wife and child before leaving the table. They would understand, of course.

 

After nearly half a year of his son being in Edward’s class, this wasn’t exactly how Roy imagined their reunion.

 

Somehow he imagined just picking his son up from school one day, and there would be Edward, and he would get out of the car and Edward would call him a bastard. They would slide easily back into their old roles.

 

Unfortunately, by Edward’s expression, that wasn’t how this was going to go.

 

Something was wrong.

 

At another table a beautiful blonde stood, her white dress shimmering in the candlelight, but Roy motioned her back down with a quick smile. Riza Hawkeye eyed him uneasily, then her eyes went out the window and a resigned sort of understanding came over her features.

 

Fuhrer or not, this was too important to have a bodyguard for. Roy would be okay without Riza for a few minutes at least.

 

Swallowing thickly, Roy continued out of the room and to the entrance. Having a quick word with the manager to get his family home if he hadn’t returned, he made his way out into the rain. Shaking out and setting his umbrella, he turned toward the front windows of the establishment. Edward was still standing there, honey-blonde hair dragged down by water and absolutely soaked through. But now he was facing towards Mustang again, golden eyes a little sharper than before and expression a little stronger.

 

Almost as if he had expected Roy to ignore him.

 

With a long-suffering sigh, Roy stepped forward until he was directly in front of Edward, raising the umbrella to shield them both and flinching as lightning and thunder cracked open the sky once again. Obviously seeing the hard wince, Ed raised a brow but said nothing. Many long seconds passed, just the two of them staring at one another, before a wavering smile made its way onto Edward’s lips.

 

“What’s up, Bastard?”

 

Mustang gave a weak smile back, letting his mask slip the slightest bit so that Edward could see the human underneath. Golden eyes darted back and forth, almost leaving heat trails that brushed across his skin, and nodded as if satisfied. Silence began to stretch again, and Roy shifted his weight slightly, knowing that Ed caught the movement anyways. Perceptive brat.

 

Except he wasn’t a brat anymore. Gods, how old was Edward now? At least thirty, surely? Thirty-two? Thirty-four? Roy couldn’t remember. But in any case, Edward was still gorgeous. Thankfully he had kept his mother’s features, even though the Fuhrer could still see Hohenheim in the strong jaw and, of course, the coloring.

 

Gorgeous, amber like fiery scotch, golden like warm, bittersweet, raw honey. Yellow, feral eyes that calculated every moment of every situation that presented itself.

 

“Can I… give you a ride somewhere? Are you in some sort of trouble, Edw- Professor Elric?”

 

_Professional. Keep it professional._

Ed seemed to wince, but then shrugged, glancing away to stare off into the dreary night. A droplet of water sparkled in his long, dark eyelashes- a true miracle considering the blonde of his hair- and his golden eyes glazed over in a dull way. It was terrifying, and Roy felt a wash of unease flood his body with all the gut-wrenching intensity of a fist to his diaphragm.

 

Edward Elric was anything but dull. He was brilliant, and his eyes should be shining with a familiar feral light.

 

“I could use a ride to my apartment, if you’re not too busy with the wife and kid.”

 

“Of course I can give you a ride,” Roy answered automatically, with no thought at all to his family. And that should be terrifying as well. But this was Ed.

 

Roy turned to the window, and met his wife’s curious and slightly worried eyes. He lifted his hand and pointed away, in the direction of the curb where their car sat. She gave a quick nod and turned back to their son.

 

The two alchemists walked to the car silently, only the patter of the rain against the umbrella breaking the tense atmosphere. Mustang glanced at Ed out of the corner of his eye every so often, and was heartbroken by the drooping, forlorn look to the blonde. Even his hair seemed to sink into his face, but Roy chalked it up to the rain.

 

They climbed into the car and pulled away quickly. Ed gave out the directions quietly, subdued, and Roy inwardly recoiled once again at the grieving sort of attitude Ed was sporting. Suddenly his breath caught and he snapped his head around to stare at Ed.

 

“Is Alphonse okay?”

 

Ed looked confused, “Of course he is.”

 

Roy let out his breath in a great sigh of relief and focused on the road again, taking a turn at Ed’s direction.

 

Soon enough, with whirling anxiety, Roy parked outside of Ed’s apartment, a quaint little complex with two stories. Roy wondered if Ed liked his neighbors. He shifted the car in park and let it idle. A comfortable yet tense- and what a weird feeling it was for such a contrast to be possible- silence drew out. A minute passed, perhaps two, in which Roy felt drunk on the thought that Ed, who he remembered he hadn’t seen for nearly a decade, was sitting in his car. Memories of their military days, bittersweet, flashed through his head like a photo album, and Roy remembered when Ed was just a young teenager, so mature… yet immature… so rough yet sweet.

 

“Maes is a little shit by the way.”

 

Roy barked a laugh, knowing his son all too well, and denied, “He’s fifteen Edward. He’s hardly little.”

 

“So? You’re like one hundred or something and you’re still a little shit.”

 

“Who are _you_ to call me little?”

 

They both laughed awkwardly in reminiscence. But along with those silly memories came another.

 

_Roy smiling almost shyly at Ed, letting his mask fall away as he quietly asked back to his home. Shocked and reluctant, Ed rejected him. Roy’s smile wavered and a wave of shame and anger at himself washed over him. Gods, he was such an idiot. But then Ed’s analytical, sharp eyes bored into him and the boy- because fuck, he was just a boy- sighed with a gust of annoyance, “Fine. Do you have liquor? What am I saying, of course you do. So you want to go over alchemic theory again? You do realize you suck.”_

_That’s not the only thing I want to suck._

_“Of course. Come over around eight?”_

_“Yeah sure.”_

_The rest of the day passed so, so agonizingly slowly, but soon enough Ed was sitting on his couch sipping scotch and glancing over Roy’s newest theories with a disgruntled look on his face._

_“Sometimes, Mustang, I think you come up with this absolute shit just to get me to come home with you.”_

_And Mustang could only smile where he sat, heart clenching and leaping as he appreciated the view of Ed bending over the table to look at the pages, “Maybe that’s true, Ed.”_

_Ed jerked, and eyed Roy suspiciously, “So, then, why are you so interested in me?”_

_Roy put his own glass down, encouraged by the liquid fire swimming through his veins, and leaned forward to cup Ed’s face, frowning at the flinch the blonde gave at his touch, “Because you’re gorgeous Ed.”_

_The other alchemist opened his mouth, and Roy leapt to take his chance, planting his lips over Ed’s greedily and quickly delving further into his bitter, alcohol-infused mouth as the boy gasped. What Roy didn’t expect were the hands that went up to grip at his shirt in an unsure twist. Roy’s hands went down to Ed’s waist and began exploring the blonde’s body._

_Within minutes Ed was sprawled out on his bed, naked and obscenely moaning as Roy’s mouth worked around him. Gods he was so fucking perfect. Just as Ed was nearing climax, Roy pulled back and flipped Ed over. At the confused hum, Roy explained what he was about to do and the blonde stiffened. Roy encouraged and soothed him with gentle caresses to the boy’s thighs, and so, so carefully prepped the boy._

_Everything after that was a blur of heat and ecstasy, and the pained gasps that Edward gave, which turned into pleasured grunts, which turned into a final, desperate moan as the boy came into Roy’s hand. Mustang followed him swiftly and they lay in bed together. They fell asleep like that, sprawled out and warm, and comfortable in each other’s arms._

_When Roy woke up, Ed was gone._

“You have a good looking family,” Ed murmured, breaking Roy out of the memory.

 

Roy swallowed, sighed, conflicted and confused, and asked through a constricted, agonized throat, “What are you doing here, Edward?”

 

Ed struggled to smile, and his next words had Roy’s heart halting in his chest, the force of the statement like a sledgehammer to his ribcage, and it hurt so badly he thought he would surely die right where he sat.

 

“I was just making sure you weren’t a pedophile anymore. Maes is my favorite student- I would hate for his father to be a sick son of a bitch.”

 

Roy was frozen in pained shock as Ed threw open the door and slipped out of the car. Through a slippery haze, Roy watched the man go up to his door and go inside after pausing to unlock the door.

 

Everything was cold, and dark, and Roy’s heart thundered in his ears like the hooves of Death’s pale steed. He could feel himself falling apart, the guilt and pain gnawing at every inch of him like a hungry, insatiable beast. His eyes and sinuses burned furiously and he whipped his head around to stare forward, gripping the steering wheel and panting hard as the tears threatened to fall.

 

He was dizzy. He was hurting. But suddenly a numbness crashed over him and his eyes stared blankly ahead.

 

Everything fled from his mind and only two words were left mumbling on his lips as he put the car into drive, ready to return to his family. His family. His wife and his son. Maes, who Ed taught weekly and was concerned about because of a single occurrence in his childhood. Ed, who was apparently traumatized because of Roy. Because of Roy.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

 


End file.
